Behind The Walls
by nessie88
Summary: Whilst on a routine salt and burn, Sam and Dean are arrested and sent prison. Behind the prison walls the brothers are faced with their worst nightmare. But can anyone rescue them from their hell.  WARNING: Rape/Violence
1. Chapter 1

WARNING: This story will contain rape. If you don't like that sort of thing, please don't read.

CHAPTER ONE

The rain was coming down heavy as Sam and Dean Winchester climbed the tall Iron Gate at the front of Elmwood Cemetery. They had found out where their latest ghost's bones were buried and were glad that the job was nearly over. It had been a tough case to work, especially since they were in a small country town in the middle of nowhere and the locals wouldn't help you if you paid them. If it hadn't been for Castiel, the hunters would never have gotten the information they needed to nail the bad guy.

They trudged through the mud, checking every headstone as they went, until finally Sam literally stumbled into the grave they had been searching for. Just as they were about to start digging, there was a sudden rush of air behind them. They turned to look in the direction of the wind and saw Castiel standing in front of them. Without warning the angel placed his hands on each of the boys' chests and recited an incantation in a language neither Sam nor Dean had heard before. In that moment the brothers felt a sharp pain pass through their bodies. The pain only lasted an instant but the shock left both men slightly dazed, Dean swaying on the spot and Sam reaching out to grab hold of the nearest headstone to steady himself.

"What the hell Cas?" Dean yelled once he had regained some composure. Sam gave Dean a side wards glance before the angel answered the question.

"Zachariah has every angel under his control searching for you. I have carved a number of protection symbols into your ribs. This will blind heaven's eyes to your whereabouts. " Castiel replied in his usual monotone voice.

"Well you could have warned us." Sam said, rubbing his chest in a wounded fashion.

"I am sorry Sam. As I am an angel I too will be blinded. If you need to get in contact with me I have purchased a cell phone. Here is the number." Castiel handed Dean a piece of paper with the digits scrawled on it.

"Wow, an angel using a cell phone. Never thought I'd see the day" Dean laughed as he studied the numbers, memorizing them. "Thanks Cas" he added as he passed the paper over to Sam to memorize. Castiel gave the men a stiff nod, and then vanished.

"He has the worst timing." Dean said, more to himself than to Sam. Sam folded the paper and shoved it into the back pocket of his jeans then along with his brother, turned back to the grave and to the task at hand.

* * *

><p>Sam and Dean had been digging for half an hour and were nearly deep enough to uncover the coffin. They were both covered in sweat and mud and the rain was pouring continuously with no signs of slowing down. It was because of the sheer lack of visibility due to the torrential rain, that neither one of the hunters saw or heard the two police troopers approach. Suddenly Dean felt an unexpected hard crack to his left shoulder, delivered by the larger of the two troopers. Dean, who had no idea what was going on, spun around with lightning speed and swung a punch at the offending baton that he had been hit with. He missed his intended target but quickly followed it up with a second punch that caught the police trooper in the leg, causing him to fall to his knees.<p>

Sam had heard the scuffle and had dragged himself out of the grave only to come face to face with a 45 glock and an angry looking man holding it. He dropped his shovel and put his hands in the air, not exactly sure what was happening. It was then that he heard his brother cry out in agony. Looking over to where Dean had been standing, Sam saw his brother laying on the wet, muddy ground convulsing. The trooper Dean had been wrestling with had fired his tazer and was now watching the man in front of him scream, a smirk forming on his lips.

"What the hell are you doing?" Sam shouted, inching towards his brother.

"Don't move!" the trooper with the gun ordered once he realized that Sam was moving towards his brother.

"Please stop…what do you want man? Just stop shocking him….PLEASE!" Sam begged with the cops, his muscles tensing at watching Dean's body quiver and scream in pain. The trooper with the tazer looked at Sam for a moment, then back at Dean, who was starting to turn red with exertion. He gave the tazer one more blast of juice then shut it off. Dean instantly stopped shaking, desperately trying to catch his breath. He was exhausted and confused and he tried to stay awake but he lost the battle and slipped into unconsciousness.

"You boys are in serious trouble."The trooper said as he rifled through Dean's pockets as he lay, motionless on the ground.

PLEASE REVIEW IF YOU WANT ME TO CONTINUE


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you to DeansMuse, Happyface and VisionX23 for reviewing. You guys ROCK!

Here is chapter 2 for your enjoyment.

**CHAPTER TWO**

The first thing that registered in Dean's mind when he woke was the dull ache pulsating through his entire body. It took a few seconds for him to become fully aware and remember what had taken place in the cemetery, the force of the memory hitting him like a sledge hammer.

"Sammy!" Dean called out, although his voice sounded weaker than he had intended.

"Dean…..thank god, you've been unconscious for just over an hour. Are you ok?" Sam stammered whilst helping his brother into a sitting position. Dean groaned at the movement but soon pushed the pain out of his mind and focused on Sam.

"Where are we?" He asked, still a little out of it.

"After you passed out, that cop emptied your pockets and said we were under arrest. They brought us to the station."

"Shit! What did they find in my pockets?" Dean said with an edge to his voice.

"Um…salt, lighter and fluid, pocket knife. No I.D. though. I told them our name is Riley."

"Ok good, do you know if they found the car?"

"Cop didn't find the keys, must have lost them while you were…" Sam's voice trailed off as his mind flashed back to Dean getting tazered.

Dean studied Sam's face for a while before gently nudging his brother's shoulder. A gesture that said 'I'm ok' without words needing to be spoken. Sam gave dean a small smile but it quickly faded as he heard the trooper making his way to their holding cell.

"Hello boys, glad to see you're back with us." The trooper drawled, looking directly at Dean. The cop had no remorse for the unnecessary force he had used on Dean and it was written all over his face.

"The boss man wants to see you two jerk offs." He stated as he fiddled with a large set of keys he had attached to his belt. He promptly found the key he was looking for and called his partner over to the cell before he proceeded to unlock it.

"On your feet!" The smaller cop barked, his eyes trained on the brothers ready to spot any threatening behavior they might display. He had the tazer in hand ready to use it if he needed to. Dean physically recoiled when he saw the cop holding the tazer and Sam subconsciously stepped in front of his brother, shielding him from any sudden attack.

"Sweet ladies" the tazer wielding cop laughed loudly. "Ya ain't afraid of my little buddy here are ya?"

Dean moved Sam aside and stepped right up to the trooper who was still giggling to himself.

"I'll let you ass holes in on a little secret. Your toys don't scare us; in fact, I haven't had a good tickle like that in a while so I guess you could say you did me a favor. " Dean had steel in his eyes as he stood his grounds against the cops in front of him but still managed to give them the cockiest shit eating grin he could manage. Dean's display of bravado resulted in a swift baton to the gut, doubling him over which in turn made it very easy for the cop to put handcuffs on him.

Sam tried to make his way over to his brother but was quickly stopped from doing so, the tazer aiming straight for his chest.

"Don't be stupid boy, your brother is an idiot but you look like the smart one. Do you really wanna end up like him?" The trooper who now had Dean in cuffs said to Sam. Sam let out a defeated sigh and simply shook his head. The trooper was right, Dean was an idiot and he always seemed to make things worse for the both of them. Sam held his hands out to the cop holding his own, intended pair of handcuffs, allowing him to secure them without any fuss. The Winchester brothers were then led out of their holding cell and down a long dark passageway, obviously leading to 'the boss man's' office.

* * *

><p>Thick grey smoke seeped into the hallway as one of the troopers opened the door to the sheriff's office, roughly pushing Dean through the doorway first, followed by a compliant Sam. Once they were both standing side by side in front of the sheriff's desk one of the troopers left the office leaving the other to stand guard.<p>

"So you kid's were found digging up a grave then became violent with my officers. Is that correct?" The sheriff was a tall, yet overweight man. He was sat on a large swivel recliner chair, chewing on a cigar and didn't even bother to look up from the gun magazine he was reading as he spoke to his prisoners.

"The hell we did, that son of a bitch out there tazered me for no good reason!" Dean yelled in response to the sheriffs 'couldn't give a shit' attitude.

"But you were found digging up a grave?" the sheriff repeated, peering skeptically over his magazine at Dean.

"Yeah… but your troopers attacked us from behind without any warning." Sam answered in place of his brother. Dean was really going to mess things up for them if he didn't keep his mouth shut and Sam wasn't about to let that happen.

"The report says 'resisting arrest' and 'threatening a police officer with a knife ', got it right here on my desk boys."

Sam and Dean looked at each other, pure shock on their faces. They were being set up.

"Your officers are FUCKING LYING!" Dean's anger erupted as he flew towards the desk, slamming his cuffed fists onto the solid wood, unable to control his rising temper.

The cop on guard wasted no time in throwing Dean to the ground, jamming his knee between his shoulder blades, pinning him in place. Sam didn't come to his brother's rescue this time; he knew that whatever he did, or didn't do now wouldn't make a blind bit of difference when these cops decided what they were going to do with them. Dean had officially blown any chance of making a deal with his angry outbursts. Sam knew Dean would never back down when he was pushed into a corner, but that didn't make him feel any less pissed about the situation his brother had created the moment he opened his big fucking mouth.

* * *

><p>After the brief but tense meeting in the Sherriff's office had gotten out of hand, Dean was dragged back to the holding cell, Sam left behind to continue the discussion with the boss. It was quiet for a few minutes until Sam decided he wasn't going to wait for the cop to spout more bullshit and broke the silence.<p>

"Dean didn't threaten your troopers. They found the knife in his pocket once he was unconscious." Sam kept his voice on an even level, attempting to have an adult conversation with the only man that could get them out of their situation.

"I might have believed you if your brother hadn't just lunged for me. It's out of my hands now son."

"What's out of your hands?" Sam asked with a slight tremor in his voice. Things weren't looking good for them.

The sheriff looked into Sam's face and could see the sincerity in his eyes but his hands were tied. With a long sigh he answered his prisoner.

"You and your brother are going to have to be placed in the Blackfield Penitentiary. After everything that has happened tonight, I can't just let you boys go. The troopers that arrested you are wrong un's Sam, but Dean's outburst has tipped the scale on things, especially as there was a witness. There's nothing I can do" His words had a hint of sorrow in them. The sheriff didn't want to send those boys to Blackfield, of all places but that was the only option for them until a trial date could be named. Grave digging would probably result in a fine but the charge for attacking an officer would be jail time. The odds were stacked against the Winchesters and there was nothing they could do about it now.

* * *

><p>Dean was sat on his small metal framed cot when Sam was put back in their cell. He had his elbows resting on his knees, cradling his head in his hands. He looked up once he and Sam were alone. Sam could see a bruise starting to form on his brother's jaw, obviously inflicted by the trooper but that was the least of his concerns at that moment in time.<p>

"We're going to jail Dean." It was all Sam could bring himself to say. Dean let his head fall back into his hands, his breath deepening as he tried to calm his nerves.

"I'm sorry Sammy. I'll get us out of this, I swear."

"How are you gonna do that Dean? If you had just kept your cool back there you wouldn't need to get us out of anything. You can be so stupid sometimes!" Sam spat at Dean, his face flushing red with anger.

"Sam…I…."

"Just quit it Dean. We leave for Blackfield in the morning so do yourself a favor and go to sleep." That was the last thing Sam said to him before turning his back on Dean and following his own advice and going to sleep.

P.S. REVIEWS GO A LONG WAY, SO IF YOU GUYS WANT CHAPTER 3 UP ASAP, CLICK THAT BUTTON.

YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO


	3. Chapter 3

Ok supernatural fans, here is chapter 3 for you to sink your teeth into. I hope you like it.

Thanks again to everyone who reviewed, it makes me write so much faster and I really appreciate all the comments.

If anyone would like anything in particular to be included in the story, I am open to ideas, although I can't promise anything. I already have a good idea of where I want the story to go but I will do my best to include the ideas that I feel will fit into the plot I have buzzing around inside my head.

Happy reading

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER THREE<strong>

It was nearly midday when the armed bus arrived to collect Sam and Dean. It was already half full with new prisoners on their way to Blackfield Penitentiary when the hunters were escorted onto the bus and put in their chains. They were sat together near the middle of the vehicle which had very little ventilation and they could see that everybody's tempers were already on edge, caused by the rising temperature as more con's joined the bus. There were two more scheduled pickups before the bus was ready to transport everyone to the prison. It was an hours' drive to Blackfield, situated in the middle of god knows where and the brothers were getting more edgy as the minutes ticked by. They just hoped that they would blend in long enough until they could reach Castiel.

The Winchester brothers stepped off the large grey prison bus, both with handcuffs around their wrists and thick heavy chains connected to each ankle holding twenty prisoners in line. Dean was in front of Sam, which did little to ease Sam's tension at being in the situation that his brother and he had gotten themselves into yet again. In single file, the newcomers were led through the entrance to Blackfield Penitentiary where they were released from their ankle chains once the main door had been secured. Everybody was instructed to stand in line up against the wall, where in turn, each prisoner was frisked, had their handcuffs removed and were handed a small pile of prison issue clothes. The pile consisted of briefs, a pair of socks, a plain white t-shirt, an orange jumpsuit, and finally a navy blue outdoor jacket with matching slip on shoes. Once each prisoner had been handed their clothes, they were taken to a separate room where they were each subjected to a full strip search before being led to the communal prison showers.

Having a shower with a bunch of other men was not Sam and Dean's idea of fun. It was awkward and embarrassing for both of them but it was all part of the deal when anyone was sent to prison. The twenty minutes they were allocated was more than enough time to do what needed to be done. Everybody dressed in their new uniform in record time, desperate to cover themselves from people's eyes. Nobody wanted to draw any unnecessary attention to themselves, especially in the showers.

"Everyone up against the wall!" a stocky prison guard barked at his new inmates once they had made themselves presentable. He watched the men line up, dangling a thick black baton in one hand, the other holding a green clipboard with a list of names on it.

"My name is Officer Jack Cross and from this moment on, I own every single one of you ass holes. I run a tight ship here at Blackfield so if anyone steps out of line, God help them. You don't talk, eat or breathe without my permission. Is that understood?" Cross shouted to the crowd, who were mindlessly nodding their heads, not sure if they should speak.

"I can't hear you mother fuckers. I said is that understood?" He repeated, a lot more force behind his words. 'Yes sir' was the united answer.

Cross had three other guards with him, each one looking as equally fierce as their chief.

"On my right is Officer Alex Walker, to my left is Officer Peter Smith and guarding the door over there is Officer Mark Hallow. Remember their names because these men will be running your lives for the duration of your sentence here at Blackfield."

Once the introductions were over, Cross began shouting out the names from his green clipboard one by one, splitting the men into two separate groups as he made his way down the list. When he reached Dean's name, Officer Walker stepped up to Cross, halting the proceedings. The two guards turned their backs to the inmates, whispering to one another for a few seconds before turning back to the prisoners and continuing the sorting.

Sam and Dean caught each other's eye for a brief moment whilst Cross and Walker were talking but soon relaxed once they were both placed in the same group.

After going through Blackfield's 'welcome routine', Sam and Dean, along with their fellow newcomers, were led into the mess hall to eat their first prison meal.

"This food tastes weird."Dean said as he took another mouthful of the greyish looking crap on his plastic plate. Neither he nor Sam had eaten since the night before so Dean persevered with the food regardless of its strange taste. He was too hungry to turn his nose up at what was offered to him.

"We're in prison Dean, what do you expect?"Sam asked rhetorically, rolling his eyes at his brother's stupid comment. Dean lifted his head and looked Sam straight in the eyes.

"It's not my fault we're in here Sam. We just ran into some really bad luck, as soon as either one of us can get our phone call, we can get hold of Cas. With any luck, he can zap us out of here. Just don't start blaming me...ok "

Sam could see the briefest flash of hurt in Dean's eyes as he spoke but it was gone in an instant. A rare show of emotion that only Sam would notice. He immediately felt guilty for snapping at his brother but he was too angry to admit he was wrong. Instead, Sam shrugged his shoulders and carried on eating the slop that those guards called food.

* * *

><p>The first few hours inside the prison walls were uncomfortable to say the least. After they finished eating, the prisoners were led to their cells one group at a time. Sam and Dean's group were placed in Block B, but much to their discomfort, the brothers were put in separate rooms, although their cells were on opposite sides of the corridor facing each other, which made them feel slightly more at ease. Sam's cell mate towered over him; at least an extra four inches on top of Sam's six foot two frame. He had a muscular build, long scraggly hair that was scraped back into a ponytail and an angry 'don't mess with me' look on his face.<p>

"Play nice boys" Hallow sniggered as he locked the cell door with a loud clank.

Dean's cell was empty when he was placed there. Walker informed him that he would bring his cell mate up shortly and that if he didn't want any broken bones on his first night in jail, he should keep his mouth shut. Just before the guard locked Dean's door he turned to the hunter and winked at him, a cocky smirk forming in the corner of his mouth.

Dean was starting to get a knot in his stomach. After what happened with those troopers back in the cemetery he really didn't want to get on the wrong side of the prison guards. They were bigger and meaner looking than the cops but he couldn't let them see how uneasy he felt either. He had to be strong not just for himself, but for Sam too. His brother was hardly speaking to him which he couldn't fully understand but that didn't stop him worrying. They were stuck there until they could reach Castiel and his brother and he weren't breaking out any other way. That much he knew for sure, the rest he was going to have to take as it came.

* * *

><p>Dean had been sat in his cell for around three hours and still there was no sign of his cell mate returning. He stood up and walked over to the small barred window, each hand reaching up to grasp the cold steel as he peered over into Sam's cell.<p>

"Sam...hey Sam" Dean called to his brother. There was no reply.

"Sammy, can you hear me?" he shouted over again earning him a 'shut the hell up' from an inmate down the hall. This time Sam heard him and his face appeared through the small opening in his cell door.

"Sorry, I must have fallen asleep. What's do you want Dean?" Sam asked, rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hand.

"I'm still alone in here, that douche bag guard said he was brining my cell mate back but that was like three hours ago. Something doesn't feel right." Dean said in a rush. He was starting to feel pretty tired himself and didn't want to be asleep when his 'roomy' came back to the cell. Sam gave his brother a strange look but pushed it aside as quickly as he could.

"Probably just got held up, try and get some sleep Dean. We're gonna need our strength if we're gonna figure out how to get the hell out of here."

"Yeah...yeah sure. I think I will get some shut eye before they bring my 'friend' in. Never know what kinda crazy those guards are gonna put in here with me." Dean gave Sam a toothy grin; masking his anxiety just enough to hide it from his brother, then flopped down onto his bunk, falling asleep almost as soon as his head touched the thin pillow.

* * *

><p>Reviews are the reason I update so <strong>everyone who reads this<strong>, please leave a comment. Thank you xxxxxxx


	4. Chapter 4

Thank you for your reviews people, I love reading everyone's comments and would like to know what you guys think about my work. Here is chapter 4 so enjoy and as always, feedback would be greatly appreciated xxxxxxx

**CHAPTER FOUR**

It was pitch black in the cell when Dean Winchester was woken to the sound of his door creaking open. He blinked a few times in the darkness, trying to wake himself up but before he could get a chance to figure out what was happening, he felt his thin blanket being snatched from him, then a large hand roughly grabbing his arm and dragging him out of bed. Dean instinctively put his arms up, ready to defend himself but was quickly subdued by his attacker who shoved the disorientated man up against the wall, jamming a thick arm under his chin and applying just enough pressure to Dean's neck to stop him struggling. As his eyes began to focus, Dean could see the face of the man holding him against the wall. It was Officer Walker. He had a strange look in his eyes and Dean could smell beer on his breath.

"Hey there princess." Walker snarled in Dean's face, panting slightly from their abrupt struggle.

"What's going on?" Dean managed to choke out from beneath the crushing weight of Officer Walker's arm. Walker laughed briefly before answering his prisoner's question.

"You and me got some business to attend to." Walker leaned in close to Dean's face as he continued.

"Now we can do this the easy way, or the hard way." He cocked his eyebrow, daring Dean to make a move.

Dean's brow furrowed as he tried to move his face away from Walkers, unsure as to what the guard was getting at, but he didn't want to piss Walker off and risk getting another beating so he remained as still as he could, waiting for whatever was about to come next. One side of Walker's mouth twitched into a half smile as he moved his lips towards Dean's ear and whispered callously.

"The choice is yours Dean." As soon as the words registered in Dean's mind he felt Walker suck his earlobe into his mouth, nibbling the soft flesh between his teeth. Dean's stomach dropped as he realized what as happening and with as much strength as he could find, he shoved hard against the guard, knocking Walker off balance for a moment. However, that moment wasn't long enough for Dean to gain the upper hand. Dean knew something wasn't right with him. He killed monsters for a living but right now he couldn't even take on a prison guard, but he couldn't think straight enough to work out what was wrong. All he could think about in that moment was the feel of Walkers tongue licking his ear. As quickly as dean had made his move he was just as quickly tackled to the ground. His face was pressed hard into the cold stone floor of his prison cell as Walker effortlessly cuffed Dean's hands behind his back, clamping them so tightly around his wrists that the steel cut into the sensitive skin. Walker wasted no time, as soon as the hand cuffs were in place he reached into his back pocket, pulling out a thick strip of cloth and tying it around Dean's head blindfolding him.

Walker viciously wrenched Dean to his feet by pulling on his handcuffs, the force from the unexpected movement ripping Dean's shoulder from its socket. Pain radiated through him and he couldn't hold back the scream that erupted from his lips and echoed down the passageway, waking sleeping inmates as Walker forcefully began shoving him out of his cell and along the empty corridor.

* * *

><p>Sam had been asleep for hours, it was a strange sleep, deep and dreamless but he could slowly feel consciousness returning to him along with the distant sound of someone shouting. As Sam gradually began to wake he soon realized that the shouting he had heard wasn't actually shouting at all. It was screaming. Shock dawned on him when he finally realized that those screams weren't just a product of his imagination, they were real and they belonged to his brother.<p>

Sam sat up in his bunk so fast that a shooting pain spiked through his head, causing him to curse under his breath and crush the palms of his hands into his eye sockets until the pain subsided. He got out of bed and started to make his way over to the small window in his cell door. Sam hadn't noticed until then that his cell mate was already out of bed, straining to get a better look out into the corridor where all the commotion was coming from. Sam pushed the man aside, too dazed to remember the size difference between them but he needed to see what was going on out there. By the time he could even get a glimpse into the hallway all he could see were the faces of other con's peering out from their own cell windows. A few of them had smiles on their faces with unnerved Sam to say the least. He didn't belong there with those people.

"What happened?" Sam turned and asked his cell mate, still a little confused as he squinted in the darkness. Sam turned his back to the man before he could answer and called across to his brother's cell.

"Dean…DEAN!"

"He's gone." Sam's cell mate said. He had no emotion in his voice what so ever.

"What do you mean…gone?" Sam replied, turning to face the giant he was bunking with. Sam walked away from the cell door and slumped down on the hard mattress with a sigh.

He knew what his brother as like, anything could have happened while he was asleep and he wouldn't put it past Dean to pick a fight, just for the hell of it. Why couldn't his brother just be normal for once. It seemed to Sam, that Dean enjoyed the attention he always managed to draw to himself wherever they went so why should being locked up in Blackfield Penitentiary be any different. Sam bowed his head in defeat. He just couldn't believe that he had an ass hole for a brother.

"Is he your buddy or something?" Sam's cell mate asked, pulling him from his train of thought.

"He's something alright….he's my brother." Sam said in a dull, exhausted voice. He was so damn tired.

"Oh…ok." The large man replied thickly. He stared at Sam for a while before walking over to the far side of their cell.

"Walker came for him."

"Who…..the guard?" Sam couldn't seem to concentrate.

"Why?" Sam said. What the hell happened while he was sleeping?

"I don't know man, I've only been here a month but guys talk….ya know." The man said. He was now sitting on the metal toilet bowl in the corner of the cell, one arm draped over the matching sink unit, the other resting on his knee. He looked at Sam, a flash of concern ghosting across his face which was illuminated from the moon light leaking into the cell from the small barred window positioned high on the wall.

"I've heard Walker is a sadistic son of a bitch but can't say I've had a run in with him myself. People stay clear of me and that's the way I like it."

Sam gawked at the man sitting on the toilet. He didn't expect to be having any sort of conversation with him at all after the look he had received earlier that day. The guy almost came across as normal as he spoke to Sam now. The man's earlier demeanor has suggested that he didn't want to be bothered by anyone, but it was clear to Sam that something had changed. He just didn't know what.

"Look….I'm only telling you this because he's your family." The man continued, seeing the look of surprise on Sam's face. "I'm close to my brother so I just though you would want the heads up on Walker and those other guards. Things can get pretty bad for your brother if he doesn't play his cards right. That's all I'm saying"

"I'm Sam." Sam offered his hand out to his cell mate, hoping to gain a better second impression than their first.

"Noah." The con replied, taking Sam's palm in a firm hand shake.

* * *

><p>Well there you have it; the story is starting to progress now, slowly but surely. Leave a quick review if you liked this chapter and if all you busy readers have time :-P xxxx<p> 


	5. Chapter 5

****SO So sorry for the huge delay in posting this chapter, been super busy with my new job and christmas and all that boring stuff that nobody really wants to hear about.

Here is chapter five, I hope you enjoy it and I will try not too take too long to post chapter six.

Please review, I love hearing what you guys think about this story xxxxxx

**CHAPTER FIVE**

All Dean could think about was the burning pain shooting through his left shoulder and across the muscles of his back. Walker hadn't dragged him far but the awkward walk had seemed like a miles hike as he was shoved along the corridor in front of the guard who moments earlier, had just attacked him in his cell. Dean could still feel the man's saliva on his ear lobe which was causing his stomach to lurch, adding to his discomfort.

"Where are you taking me?" Dean panted between unsteady breaths.

"Shut your mouth ass wipe" Walker answered giving Dean's dislocated shoulder a firm prod with his baton, just enough to cause his prisoner to hiss loudly.

Dean decided to stop talking; concentrating instead on the direction Walker was guiding him in. He was disorientated from the blindfold covering his eyes and having his hands cuffed behind his back made Dean feel extremely vulnerable. Walker abruptly pulled Dean to a stop, positioning him against the cold brick wall along with a vicious command not to move. Dean obliged as he listened to Walker rattle his bunch of keys then proceed to open a door on Dean's right side.

The smell of stale smoke hit Dean's nostrils as he was maneuvered through the, now open doorway; sounds of low laughter accompanying the stench of the room. He tried to figure out how many different voices were surrounding him but it was difficult considering the position he was is. Dean guessed that where he was now standing must be the guards break room, there was no other option really. Where else would Walker have taken him? It was the most logical answer Dean could find as he waited for something to happen. He hadn't been dragged out of bed for nothing.

There were three other men in the room that Walker had pushed Dean into. Two were sat at a large wooden table in the centre of the room, the other sat alone in the far left corner reading a newspaper and holding a mug of coffee.

There was an animated card came unfolding among the two guards at the table. The cigarettes scattered on the slab of oak between the two men would be the victor's prize. It was the same set up that Blackfield's inmates participated in on a daily basis and it seemed that the sport had leaked its way into the employees break room. A simple and risk free game of cards to ease the stress of the day. Laughter and smoke drifted through the room as if nothing else in the world mattered except the pile of smokes that was there for the taking to the guy who could outsmart the other. A show of masculinity, masked by a uniform and a cheap deck. Ironic.

The man hidden away in the shadows was a different matter altogether. He appeared out of place as he silently flicked through the tabloid in his hand, not really seeing the articles but looking through them. He sipped at his coffee in an odd kind of trance. He had something on his mind and as not interested in joining his colleagues for whatever card game they were idly playing. He looked as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Although Dean Winchester couldn't see his surrounding, it seemed to him that these men were far too merry considering their occupation. From what he could tell, they were drunk, the scent of beer was drifting through the room and Dean grew more wary of the situation he was in with each passing second.

"Well look what we got here boys!" a loud voice boomed, halting whatever chatter had been occupying the guards time.

Dean instantly recognized the voice, one of the advantages from his line of work being an excellent memory for the finer details. The voice belonged to Officer Jack Cross, the guard in charge of B Block. He was shuffling the worn deck of cards while he spoke, the guard sat opposite him pulling his winnings from the middle of the table and adding them to his already healthy pile of cigarettes.

"Hallow…..get over here." Cross added to his previous statement, glancing towards the corner of the room where Officer Mark Hallow was sat. There was a rustling sound from the far corner as Hallow folded the newspaper he had been reading, rose from his chair and slowly made his way over to where his boss was sitting. He sat down in one of the empty chair but remained at a distance from the other guards. Somehow he had the feeling that he didn't want to get involved in what was going to take place that night, but he knew he wouldn't have a choice. The three seated guards looked in Officer Walker's direction as Cross placed the cards down on the table and leaned back in his seat with a sigh.

"Bring the boy over so we can see what we're dealing with." Cross ordered Walker in a calm but authoritative tone. Dean felt Walker place his hand on the small of his back and push him forwards. The gesture, harmless as it may seem made bile rise in Dean's throat. Walkers hand inched lower as he ushered Dean onward. He stumbled a few steps towards the guards but was brought to a stop by the thick end of a baton pressing into his chest. He hated not being able to see what was going on around him and as a result his breathing began to deepen. Dean had an odd fuzziness throbbing in the base of his skull. He knew that the pain couldn't be from his confrontation with Walker but he couldn't put his finger on it. Dean was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of Officer Cross talking.

"Did he put up a fight?" Cross asked the man stood behind the prisoner standing in front of him.

"Not too much. The sedative worked, his brother was out cold when we left the cell block. This one's a little drowsy, should be nice and complaisant, ain't that right ass hole?" Walker answered his superior, giving Dean's rear a squeeze as he spoke. Dean jerked at the unexpected touch but as he listened to what was being said, it all became clear to him. He knew that the prison food hadn't tasted right. How could he not have figured that out.

"Play time's over boys, let's get down to business then, shall we." Cross added.

Dean heard him rise from his chair and start to circle him. The pain in his shoulder increased as he felt himself stiffen at Officer Cross' inspection. What the hell did these guys want from him.

* * *

><p>Sam had talked to his cell mate for a while after he had woken to the distant sound of Dean's voice. In that time he had found out that Noah was doing a four year stretch for armed robbery and had one brother and two sisters back in Texas which he hardly ever saw. Both his parent had died in a car crash when he was nineteen so he had raised his siblings as best he could. However, it turned out that his best hadn't been good enough and the family lost their home, the younger ones going into foster care. Noah had no other option than to turn to petty crime in order to feed himself, but eventually the law caught up with him and he got himself locked up in Blackfield. Sam was less forthcoming with his reason for being in prison, he didn't want to answer any of the questions that would have defiantly arisen if he told Noah the truth, so he went with a more conventional crime. He kept his life story brief, telling only that it was just him and his brother, who coincidentally was the reason they were both occupying cells at Blackfield.<p>

Noah had gone back to sleep around half an hour before Sam had decided to give up waiting for Dean to return to his cell. He knew his brother could handle himself anyway and if he had gotten himself into trouble then Dean was going to have to get himself out of it. Sam wasn't going to be the go to guy when things went wrong anymore. He was too damn tired of cleaning up Dean's messes for him.

* * *

><p>Dean couldn't figure out how long he had been away from his cell but all he wanted to do now was go back there and crawl into his bed. He never thought he would want to be locked in a prison cell again after the first few hours he had spent in his cramped room but right now that was where he wanted to be, away from the men who were surrounding him now. Dean concentrated on keeping calm as he waited what felt like an eternity for one of the guards to speak.<p>

Officer Cross had returned to his chair and was now ominously tapping his night stick against the solid oak table leg. The only other sounds Dean could make out were the odd swigs from a beer bottle or the puff of a cigarette. Cross was the man to break the silence.

"Take your clothes off." He stated matter of factly, like what he had just ordered his prisoner to do was as simple and normal as asking him his name. Dean moved his head from side to side, trying to see through his blindfold but failing.

"Excuse me?" Dean answered, confusion evident in his voice. Dean heard Walker jumbling the bunch of keys hooked to his belt behind him then he felt the handcuffs that had been biting in to his wrists fall away.

Instantly, Dean brought his uninjured arm up to his face and pulled away his blindfold. The brightness in the guards break room took Dean by surprise and as a result he could just about open his eyes in an odd sort of squint. He noticed that Officer Cross was now on his feet along with Walker, Smith balancing on the edge of his seat with anticipation in his eyes. Officer Hallow remained seated with his eyes cast down towards the floor.

"Take off your clothes." Came the command again, this time more forcefully as Jack Cross took a step forward, displaying his authority.

"No!" Dean said, he wasn't about to give this man what he wanted without putting up a fight.

"I won't ask again." Cross replied, the trace of a smirk lurking on the corner of his mouth.

Dean stood his ground, not ready or willing to remove his clothes.

"Have it your way then." Was Cross's response. In a sudden flash of movement, Officer Smith had bolted from his chair and given Dean a swift punch to the gut, leaving him doubled over, fighting to draw in a breath. Walker wasted no time in taking advantage of his prisoner's vulnerable stance and together with Smith, quickly stripped Dean of his grotesque orange jump suit. Dean felt the cold air hit his bare skin and instantly put his breathlessness aside to fight back. He turned his upper body towards the offending hands that were now wrestling with his thin cotton t-shirt and grabbed hold of them. He tried to pull his t-shirt free from the Officer's grip but was stopped with a hard kick to the back of his right leg. Dean fell to his knees with a loud thump, giving Walker and Smith enough leverage to pull the shirt up and over Dean's head, exposing his chest.

"GET THE HELL OFF ME!" Dean screamed, he tried to stand up but was held down by Smith as Walker secured the handcuffs tightly around Dean's wrists once again.

Dean had never felt more helpless before in his life as those men tore at his clothes. The minute that Officer Cross had given the command, Dean knew what was coming and felt sick to his stomach. He had heard that this sort of thing went on behind prison walls; he just never thought he would be on the receiving end of it. How could this be happening to him, Dean Winchester, hunter, soldier….. Hero. Once he felt the handcuffs snap back into place, there was a moment of calm in the room. All Dean could hear was Sam's voice echoing in his head '_you can be so stupid sometimes….it's your fault we're in here….you deserve what's coming to you'. _Dean knew that his mind was playing tricks on him, Sam would never say those things but deep down he blamed himself solely for him and his brother being sent to Blackfield. It was his fault, all of it and there was nothing he could do to change that now. Dean wished he was more in control of his temper back at the Sherriff's office but it was too late. There was no getting away from the hopeless situation he now found himself in. He was just glad that it wasn't Sam in this position. The guilt would have killed Dean considering the only reason they were in prison in the first place was down to his own stupidity and temper.

"Stand up!" Walker yelled from behind his prisoner. Without hesitation, Dean was yanked to his feet by his hair, biting back a yelp as his injured shoulder was jarred yet again. He stood there shivering in front of his tormenters determined not to show any fear. He wanted to hold on to as much dignity as he possibly could as he stared Officer Jack Cross in the eye, his face hard as stone.

"Not bad." Cross said, ignoring Dean's act of defiance and running his eyes up and down his captive's body. He turned towards Officer Peter Smith and commented, "This one's gonna make us some cash alright."

"No doubt, been waiting a long time for a piece of ass as sweet as this to come in." Smith answered, while glancing at Dean through the corner of his eye.

Whilst Dean had been watching the conversation between Cross and Smith he had forgotten about Officer Alex Walker standing behind him. He was suddenly reminded when, to his horror, he felt Walker cup his hand between his legs, roughly groping him. Dean tried to flinch away but Walkers other arm quickly wrapped itself around Dean's neck, immobilizing him.

"He ain't too bad in the shorts department either." Walker sneered, squeezing harder as he felt Dean pulling away from him.

"Let's take a closer look then." Smith replied, amusement evident in his voice. In one swift movement he ripped Dean's boxer shorts down past his knees, letting them bunch at his ankles.

Laughter erupted as Dean stood there completely naked, his face flushing red as he closed his eyes, trying to block out the men surrounding him.

* * *

><p>PLEASE REVIEW IF YOU HAVE THE TIME XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX<p> 


	6. Chapter 6

****Oh my lord I can't believe it has been so long since my last update. Well here is chapter six for you to sink your teeth into.

I would really appreciate some feedback on this chapter please.

ENJOY FAITHFUL READERS

**CHAPTER SIX**

It felt like the room was closing in on Dean, as if gradually it was getting smaller with each passing second that ticked by. He still had his eyes closed and hadn't realised he had been holding his breath. That is, until his lungs started to burn, evoking Dean into taking a huge shuddering gulp of air into his oxygen starved body. His muscles were tensed and no matter how hard he tried to remain calm, his legs had begun to quiver slightly. Whether it was from the cold or the fear, Dean couldn't tell. All he could focus on was the guards laughter which sounded distant in Dean's ears as dread clouded his senses making him even more vulnerable to the pending attack which he knew was coming.

Reality gripped a hold of Dean as he felt a clammy hand make contact with his heaving chest and he snapped out of his terror induced trance.

"GET YOUR FUCKING HANDS OFF OF ME!" he screamed, now opening his eyes and staring into Jack Cross' cold ones.

"What the fuck is wrong with you people? Can't get laid the normal way so you ambush men you're paid to watch over, you sick son of a bitch." Dean spat. Anger had now taken over the fear, which had frozen his body moments earlier.

Officer Cross stared back at his prisoner, the corner of his mouth twitching into a grotesque smile.

"Got quite a mouth on him, ain't he fella's." He said, sniggering at the end of his statement.

"Let's see if we can't put it to better use then." Walker hissed into his captive's ear. His warm breath made Dean's blood run cold. Without warning, Officer Alex Walker shoved Dean forwards hard and fast. Dean stumbled out of shock, the force with which Walker had pushed him once again expelling all the air from his lungs leaving him disorientated and gasping for breath. Dean crashed into Officer Smith who wasted no time in forcing him onto his knees, quickly moving to stand behind him. Running his thick, black baton under Dean's chin, Smith pulled it tightly across his neck holding him firmly in place.

Dean's eyes began to water under the pressure of Smith's night stick crushing his airways. He struggled for a while, attempting to free himself but soon realised that his efforts were fruitless and all he was succeeding in doing was causing himself more pain. He gave in with an exasperated sigh, defeat lurking behind his clouded eyes.

The guards all noticed that Dean had very little fight left in him and began to laugh, all with the exception of officer Mark Hallow who still had his eyes cast down towards the floor, a stern look on his face as his colleagues tortured the new inmate for their own amusement. He had started working at Blackfield six months ago. His wife was pregnant and he needed to get a steady job with a good pay cheque. Mark Hallow had thought he hit the jackpot landing a permanent job at Blackfield Penitentiary but he soon found out that the people he was working with should be locked behind those bars, not running the place. He kept out of most of their 'games' but he needed this job so played along when necessary, always taking a back seat. The odd comment here and there, maybe a little rough handling if required. Just enough to keep the other guards from his block on side. He never got involved in what his colleagues were partaking in now. He just didn't know how to get himself out of this mess without jeopardising his family in the process. He was afraid to speak out, not only for his job but for his reputation and his own safety. He was trapped with these men who would surely turn on him if he was to report their extracurricular activities.

Hallow glanced towards his colleagues new toy who was grunting in pain. He caught Dean's eye for a brief moment, sympathy clear as day written on his face but he knew that feeling sorry for the man wasn't going to help him in the slightest right now. He turned his gaze away again. He couldn't look into that man's face knowing that he couldn't or wouldn't do anything to help him. Officer Mark Hallow was ashamed of his cowardice. He tried to block everything out, picking up his newspaper once again and scanning the articles for the second time.

Cross chose that moment to get down to business. He stood in front of the terrified man with a smile on his face.

"Open up" were the only words that came out of his mouth.

Dean couldn't move.

It was as if time had stopped. Blood was pounding in his ears as he stared blankly at the head guard, unable to do anything. Dean could feel his knees starting to throb. He was being held down on the solid concrete floor by Smith and his baton, his eyes level with the crotch of Officer Jack Cross' pants. Bile was burning the back of his throat and his eyes were watering with the bitter taste of it. How could this be happening to him. Dean Winchester of all people. He knew how to handle himself against the most vicious of animals but here he was at the mercy of a man in uniform and there was nothing he could do to stop what was coming. He felt sick.

"Open your eyes mother fucker!" Cross shouted. "I want you to see what I got for ya."

The deafening sound of a zipper being pulled down hit Dean like a kick to the gut. His eyes, which he hadn't realised were closed flew open. Shock was beginning to dull his senses, his whole body was starting to shake and he was glad that Sam wasn't here to see what he was about to be forced into. Before he could stop himself, Dean heard the one word he never thought he would say to these vile bastards leave his lips.

"Please…."

It was barely above a whisper but all four guards heard it as plain as day. The word sounded broken somehow. There was no bite behind it, just undeniable raw emotion. Officer Hallow's heart sank with that solitary word. He couldn't watch what he was not prepared to stop.

"I gotta take a leak." He said, lifting his arms above his head in a slow stretch before rising from his chair and turning toward Walker. "Go easy on him, don't wanna break our new toy before we really get a chance to play." He added, disgusted with himself and the way he must have sounded to the defenceless naked man on his knees.

"Fine, go do count while you're gone. Don't want to slack on our duties now do we." Walker said.

Hallow grabbed the clip board that was hanging on a brass hook next to the door. All the prisoners' names from C Block were on a piece of paper attached to it. All he had to do was go to each cell, check that everyone was still there and tick off the names as he went along. He was relieved to get the job. He couldn't be in that break room any longer. He pulled the set of keys from his belt and unlocked the heavy steel door. As soon as he closed that door behind him he could pretend that nothing bad was happening to the new inmate that he could not protect.

The door clanked shut loudly causing Dean to jump and the three remaining guards to break out into a callous laugh. They stood like that for a few moments, laughing and watching their captive quiver with terror, before Smith broke the mantra by shouting directly into Deans left ear.

"Let's get cracking pretty boy, we don't got all night ya know. Pull yourself together jackass!"

Walker took the opportunity to lean down towards Dean then. He whispered to him, his words stung like shards of glass as Dean listened to what he said.

"If you even think about biting down, I'll rip every one of you fucking teeth from your skull. Do you understand princess? Don't so much as twitch"

Then it happened.

* * *

><p>It was still dark when Sam woke up for the third time since he and his cell mate had been talking. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't rest knowing that his brother wasn't in his cell. Where was Dean. Sam sat up and rubbed his hands over his face. He could feel stubble on his chin and he wondered when he would be allowed to shave. He hated facial hair. He got out of bed and padded over to the small window in his door. He still couldn't see anything but he called for Dean all the same. His brother might have been brought back onto the block while he was asleep.<p>

"Dean…hey you in there?" Sam called across the hall trying to keep his voice as low as he could manage. He didn't want to wake anyone up.

No answer.

Just as he was about to get back into bed Sam heard the sound of keys jangling. He craned his neck as far as the barred window would let him and caught the glimpse of a uniform. He could hear the guard out in the hallway as he made his was down the aisle ticking off names on his clipboard. The guard approached Sam's cell where he found the hunter staring out at him from behind the bars.

"Where's my brother?" Sam said before he could manage to stop himself.

"Step back from the door please." was his answer. The guard scanned the cell quickly, scribbling on the paper as he did so, then he looked Sam in the eye.

"Do you know where Dean is?" Sam tried again. He waited patiently for an answer, studying the officer's face.

"He fell earlier; he's been taken down to the infirmary with a dislocated shoulder. He will be brought back to his cell soon" Hallow's answer was short but to the point. He hated lying to the boy but he thought the last thing Dean would want would be for his brother to find out what had happened. It was the only consolation he could think of, a poor attempt at helping the man but what else could he really do. Officer Mark Hallow was a coward and he felt the shame of that fact cut down into his bones. Without looking at Sam again he carried on with his task in silence, his head and heart heavy as he walked the halls.

Sam had noticed the strange expression on the guards face as he had answered his question. What kind of fall would have been bad enough for Dean to dislocate his shoulder. It seemed so shady but Sam decided that he would put it to the back of his mind until he could actually speak to his brother.

* * *

><p>He couldn't breathe. Tears were flowing freely now, staining his flushed cheeks. Dean could feel his heart pounding in rhythm with each thrust Cross pounded his open mouth with. He gagged every time that man hit the back of his throat but no one seemed to care. Walker had started breathing heavily himself, clearly enjoying the show unfolding before his eyes while Smith held Dean in place, his grip tightening as the thrusts became more strong and frequent. Dean's shoulder was on fire. The pain was shooting down the length of his arm in sync with each forced movement. He gagged uncontrollably as his mouth was brutally violated by a man he was supposed to be able to trust inside Blackfield's stone walls. Dean was helpless, forced to take in strategic breaths through his nose which was crushed against Jack Cross' pubic hair as the man pushed himself deeper into his throat. He wanted it to be over. What was only a few minutes seemed like hours to Dean Winchester. In those long, humiliating minutes he prayed to God for help, knowing only too well that he would receive no answer.<p>

Finally Dean could feel the pace pick up until his face was smothered against Officer Jack Cross' abdomen and held there tightly as the bastard rode out his climax. Dean could feel the hot liquid seep down the back of his throat, unable to escape it. He had never felt so worthless in his entire life. That final moment had stripped away the last shred of dignity that he had been desperately clinging on to throughout his ordeal but that too had been ripped from him as easily as his clothes had been ripped from his body.

Once Officer Cross' orgasm had fizzled out the guard immediately shoved Dean backwards. Smith released the hold he had on his prisoner and let Dean collapse to the cold floor in defeat. The three men stared down at the broken body at their feet. There was no laughter this time though. All three of them looked at Dean with fire in their eyes. The humour had evaporated and all that was left in that room was heat and venom. Dean kept his eyes cast downwards; he couldn't bring himself to look at any of those bastards crowding around him. All he could feel in that moment was utter humiliation and defeat. What would Sam think of him now. The indestructible Dean Winchester, hunter, protector, big brother. Sam couldn't find out about this. It would kill Dean to think that the main emotion Sam would feel for him once he knew, would be pity. He was worth more than that, even though he couldn't truly make himself believe it now. Not when he felt so used and dirty.

* * *

><p>PLEASE REVIEW xx<p> 


	7. Chapter 7

So sorry it took so long to get this chapter up, I hope you haven't given up on this story because I haven't. I relly hope you enjoy it and please let me know what you think. Reviews are always appreciated.

Ness xxxxxx

* * *

><p><span><strong>Chapter seven<strong>

Dean had lost all concept of time as he cowered at the feet of the men who had just attacked him. Every second seemed to blend into the next in his mind but he was determined not to show weakness. Dean was utterly humiliated but he would not be beaten. As he laid there dazed and disgusted he mentally shook himself, praying for the strength he was quickly losing, not only for his own sake but for his brother who he alone was still responsible for. It was then that he felt himself being dragged to his feet by a pair of large, strong hands. He resisted as much as his body would allow but the drugs in his system were still making themselves known, slowing his movements and reactions. It was Walker who had a hold of him, his calloused fingers digging viciously into his biceps. The pain from his dislocated shoulder seared through his upper body like knives piercing his flesh and Dean couldn't hold back the cry as he was yanked over to the oak table that the officers had been playing cards on when he had first arrived in the break room. Walker looked towards Officer Cross, the guy in charge for the ok to continue. The head guard nodded his head in answer to Walkers silent question and moved out of Dean's line of sight.

"My turn, princess." Walker growled in Dean's ear. His breathing was heavy and Dean could feel the guards' thick erection as he was pushed face down on the table, Walker pressing himself into his prisoners' backside.

Dean's instincts kicked in as soon as he felt the weight of the guard press into him. He was not about to let Walker do this to him. He fought the guard as hard as he could, kicking out behind him and trying to wriggle out of the burly man's grasp.

"LET GO OF ME…." Dean screamed as he continued to fight the man holding him. As incapacitated as he was, Dean noticed that the guard was having difficulty completing his task. Officer Alex Walker was beginning to grunt as he persistently wrestled with the Winchester for control.

"Get over here and help me will ya." Walked called over his shoulder to Officer Peter Smith who wasted no time in clasping his hands onto the writhing man's upper body, shoving him face first into the solid wood he was laying on top of.

Panic was taking over Dean's mind now and he felt his body start to react to the adrenalin coursing through his veins. The pain in his shoulder was still shooting through him but he couldn't bring himself to care anymore. He was not about to lay there and get fucked like the prison whore.

"Get the fuck off me you bastard." He grunted as he carried on struggling. It was then that Dean heard the steel door being unlocked. He didn't know why but an overwhelming feeling of relief washed over him. He had no reason to think that help was behind that door but he stopped his efforts to escape for a moment and allowed himself to feel the sensation that was temporarily masking his fear. Walker and Smith stopped their efforts also and looked towards the door, still with a firm grip on their prisoner.

Officer Jack Cross was now sitting in one of the black folding chairs that had been placed around the central table of the break room. The chair had been flung across the length of the room to rest near the wall furthest from the door during the scuffle but Cross made no attempt to move it from that position, most of his energy having been spent on his earlier activities with the new prisoner in Cell Block B. He cast his gaze towards the steel door along with the other men occupying the room. It was Officer Mark Hallow returning from his duties who entered. He quickly turned his back on his work colleagues to relock the only entrance and exit to the break room then replaced the clipboard he was holding back on its allocated hook. Dread was already filling his gut as he slowly turned to face the scene before him. His line of sight instinctively found Dean's gaze before he could focus on anything else and something in him snapped. He had to find a way to end this night, if only to give the man pinned to the table some kind of a break before this shit started all over again the following evening. Hallow raised his eyes and began to seek out Cross. Once he found the person he was looking for he opened his mouth and began to speak.

"All prisoners accounted for sir." He addressed the senior officer.

"Great, I'd expect nothing less…" Cross replied. "Don't need any complications on my block."

Jack Cross leaned back in his chair, raising his arms above his head with a deep yawn. "How 'bout Lettin' those two get back to it, hey Hallow." He added, nodding his head in the direction of the three entangled men before them.

Dean instantly resumed his desperate struggle, trying to delay his worst nightmare from becoming a reality.

"Keep the fuck still you little bitch" Smith spat in Dean's face accompanied with a sharp right hook to the man's exposed ribcage. The blow knocked the air out of Dean's lungs allowing Walker enough time to unzip his own pants and pull out his erect penis, but that was as far as he was able to get before he heard Officer Hallow begin to speak again. Hallow looked past Walker, directing his words toward the Officer in charge.

"I think he's had enough for one night sir." He said with as much confidence as he could muster.

Cross furrowed his brow at Hallow's sudden statement.

"Oh, and why is that Hallow" Cross answered, his strong tone thick with authority.

Hallow used the older Officer's question as an opportunity to distance himself from the other two guards who were now watching him intently, still holding their prisoner down. Making the conversation a little more private might give him the appearance of being into this shit like the rest of the night shift and getting on the right side of Cross was the only way to do that, he was still the new guy after all, whichever way you chose to look at it. He walked towards where Cross was sitting pulling another of the discarded chairs over to rest next to his captains and sat down alongside him, their shoulders almost close enough to touch.

"The brother has been asking questions." He glanced towards the young man who's face was being crushed into the oak. "I told the guy that this one fell off of his bunk and dislocated his shoulder. I figure if you wanna get some decent use outta him he's gonna have to have that arm popped back."

"What are you saying exactly Officer Hallow?" Cross replied. His expression was thoughtful, as if he was not quite sure where his subordinate was going with this, but he was trying to work it out.

" If we keep him here for much longer the brother is gonna start to think I lied to him."

"So fucking what!" Smith jumped into the conversation.

Hearing Smith's outburst unnerved Hallow to say the least. What if his colleagues began to see through his façade. This prompted him enough to decided that if he was going to have any chance of helping the man on that table he was going to have to get tough, and fast.

"The less the brother knows for now the easier it's gonna be to control that piece of shit you got there." He yelled with enough force behind the words to hopefully keep the other guards on side. " I doubt very much that he wants to share what has happened here tonight with anyone, let alone a member of his own family. So the way I see it, we got ourselves a pretty tight bargaining chip if ya ask me"

The break room became quiet for a moment, each man present lost in his own thoughts. Smith and Walker both surprised by Hallows new found aggression, Cross deliberating whether or not to follow Hallow's advised approach to the situation at hand and Dean, praying that the night was soon to be over. It was Cross who broke the silence.

"I like your thinking Mark." He said. Officer Hallow subconsciously let out a sigh of relief. He was safe, for now.

"Walker, let the man go. You can have your fun another night. We need to get this prisoner back to his cell."

"FUCK!" Walker roared it utter frustration. He grudgingly pulled away from Dean and stomped over to the far side of the room, tucking himself back into his slacks as he went.

Smith quickly followed Walker's lead, letting go of Dean, but not before giving the man a sharp jab to his injured shoulder causing his prisoner to cry out yet again. He walked over to the coffee pot that was sitting on the counter in the small kitchenette and took a mug from the shelf, pouring himself a generous helping of the black liquid. He needed a distraction to pull his mind away from being denied any further evening entertainment from their guest and he thought the best way to do that would be to sober up a little before shift change. Smith carried his coffee over to where Walker was standing, leaned back against the wall and took a long gulp. Walker looked towards his buddy, anger still visible in his eyes but he was slowly becoming calmer. He would get his turn with the boy soon enough.

Dean laid where he was for a moment, unsure as to what he was supposed to do. His whole body was wracked with uncontrollable tremors caused from a mixture of fear and rage. He tried desperately to bring his body under control but was failing miserably. His body was coated in a light sheen of sweat from the exertion of fighting off his attackers and was now beginning to feel the cold seep into his skin. He felt so dirty.

* * *

><p>Sam had paced the length of his shared cell ever since Officer Hallow had left. His head was swarming with questions but confusion was dominating every thought.<p>

"Jesus."

Sam hadn't realised he had said that out loud. He glanced up at Noah who was shifting from one side to the other on his bunk. Sam's outburst hadn't woken his cell mate however so he breathed out a long sigh and continued his pacing. Where was Dean, What the hell was going on? Sam was going to get to the bottom of it and he didn't care how long it took.

* * *

><p>"Get dressed." Cross shouted across the room, making his prisoner jump.<p>

Dean slowly raised his torso up and off the oak table, his movements laboured. Once he was in an upright position he remembered that he was completely naked and automatically tried to shield himself. Ofcourse his hands were still bound behind his back so all he succeeded in doing was wrenching his shoulder once again. He hissed loudly.

Officer Mark Hallow walked towards the vulnerable man, reaching down to un-clip the bunch of keys attached to his belt. Dean recoiled when the man lightly touched his arm, attempting to turn him so he could remove his restraints. The boy's reaction made Hallow wince. Nobody should have to go through what this man had just endured but he knew he couldn't stop it. Mark Hallow stopped his movements and caught Dean's gaze for a second. He tried to give the man some sort of sign that he wasn't going to hurt him without having to say the words. He had to keep up the pretence in front of the other guards or risk everything he had worked for.

"Turn around." The guard said, his voice harsh but his expression the opposite. His approach worked as he felt the man's muscles relax under his grip. Dean looked Hallow in the eye for a brief moment but then followed the command and turned around, his body swaying as he did so.

Hallow wasted no time in locating the correct key and releasing the man from his bonds. He stepped away, giving Dean the space he needed to retrieve his discarded prison issue clothes. He used his right hand to pull his boxer shorts on one leg at a time. The process was painfully slow, his dislocated shoulder hindering him immensely but he managed to get the shorts up past his knees and pull them over his hips. That was all he could do.

"I can't." Dean said just above a whisper. The small task of putting his own underwear on had taken almost every ounce of strength he had left.

"Put your clothes on you little bitch!" Walker shouted. He was enjoying the sight of Dean struggling.

"My shoulder…I…."

"Shut the fuck up." Cross barked getting up from his chair and making his way over to Dean. The guard dragged Dean back over to the table, once again pushing him face first into the wood. Without hesitation Cross grabbed a hold of Dean's injured shoulder and placed his free hand in between the boy's shoulder blades. In one swift motion Cross pulled Dean's shoulder back as hard as he could whilst pressing the palm of his right hand into Dean's back. There was an audible pop immediately followed by a deafening scream. The head Guard strolled back over to his chair leaving his prisoner to fight the pain of having his shoulder forced back into its socket. Dean felt like he was on fire but he knew that soon enough the burn would subside and he was grateful for that. It took a few moments for Dean to get his breathing under control before he gathered up the rest of his clothes and resumed getting dressed. He got his shirt on with some difficulty but not too much to piss his tormentors off any, then he stepped into his jumpsuit, managing to pull it up and over his shoulders but he decided to leave it unbuttoned for now, his energy waning.

"Take him back to the block." Cross ordered. He as now holding the newspaper that Mark Hallow had been reading earlier on and paid no more attention to the other men in the room.

Walker automatically moved to follow his chief's command. He reached Dean in a matter of seconds and re-attached his handcuffs roughly.

"I don't think that's a good idea." Hallow took a step towards Dean who had already started to resist the guard who had a hold of him.

"Fuck off Mark!"

"Let it go Alex." Smith cut in. He could see that his buddy was going to get himself in the shit with their boss if he carried on the way he was going. He needed to get a grip.

"Officer Hallow will escort the prisoner back to his cell." Cross didn't look up from his newspaper as he addressed his colleagues. Walker looked towards Cross, then to Hallow scowling like a sullen child. He knew when he was beaten but he swiftly spun Dean around to face him and shoved him back up against the wall, crushing his bound hands in the process.

"I'll be seeing ya real soon cupcake." He snarled seductively, cupping the palm of his hand between his prisoners legs, giving his a firm squeeze. "You can count on that." Then the guard pursed his lips, mockingly blowing Dean a kiss. He released the man and handed him over to Hallow who immediately unlocked the break room door and left with his prisoner in tow.

Once Hallow had locked the break room door securely behind them he gently took hold of Dean's right arm and proceeded to lead him down the long hallway and away from everything that had happened back in that room. Hallow could feel the tension in Dean's body as they walked at a slow pace. There was silence between them, the only noises coming from Dean's deep, steady breathing and their footsteps echoing off of the painted stone walls either side of them.

Dean was in utter disbelief and shock. His thoughts were running circles through his head and him mind refused to focus on one thought long enough for him to process it before it was darting off to the next. Questions were forming but the answers to those questions didn't exist. What had just happened? Why did they choose him? Would Sam find out? When would it happen again? Who could help him? Dean was lost in total confusion.

Suddenly Dean's internal mantra was halted as he felt the guard holding him pull him to a stop. His stomach dropped. What did this guard want from him now, he didn't think he could take anymore. Not tonight.

"I'm sorry."

Dean must have heard wrong. He didn't move, didn't look up from the floor. What had the guard just said to him? There was a moment of quiet and then those words again.

"I'm sorry….I…." Hallow trailed off, not sure what to say or whether Dean was listening to him.

Another pause.

"Why?" Dean's voice had a quiver to it but he forced himself to look the guard in the eye. He didn't want to show any more weakness than he already had.

"I can't stop them." Mark Hallow cast his eyes down to the floor, he couldn't look that man in the eye without feeling the crushing shame burning in his chest from his own weakness.

"I have a family…..I need this job." It was a piss poor excuse and he knew it.

There was a long pause now, the silence wrapping itself around the two men stood face to face in the cold hallway.

"I get it." Dean finally said after using the silence to study the guards expressions and body language. He always knew when he was being lied to. "You got your own business to take care of…why risk everything for a guy you don't even know, a prisoner. I get it."

"I'm sorry….it's"

"DON'T." Dean spoke the word firmly, he didn't want to here anymore tonight. He just wanted to get back to his cell, to shut the whole night out for a few hours. He needed quiet.

"What's your name?" the guard asked, resuming his position alongside his prisoner, leading him back towards B Block.

"Dean." The man answered quietly.

"My name's Mark." The guard replied. That was the end of their conversation. Hallow opened Dean's cell door, letting him enter of his own accord. He followed the man inside to remove his restraints then left securing the door before turning and walking away leaving the dissipating echo of his footsteps behind him.

* * *

><p>Please comment on this chapter, constructive criticisms welcome. Thank you all for reading xxxxxxx<p> 


	8. Chapter 8

Sorry these updates are taking so long, but I am forced to go to work and have little spare time, but do not fear, this story will never be abandoned, I love hurt Dean too much.

Enjoy, fanfiction lovers xxx

* * *

><p>Chapter Eight<p>

Sam, as hard as he had tried not to, had fallen asleep once again. He was oblivious to the fact that his food had been drugged and even pacing the length of his cell continuously had done little to prevent his eyelids from falling shut. He wasn't sleeping deeply however and was roused from his dozing by an odd sound that he couldn't quite put his finger on. To the younger Winchester's subconscious, the noise reminded him of a cat coughing up a fur ball but as awareness started to creep its way back into his clouded mind, Sam realised that it was the sound of someone vomiting.

* * *

><p>Dean couldn't move. Once his cell door had been firmly locked behind him, he had become frozen to the spot, shock encasing his body in a vice like grip. Did that really just happen? Dean ran the night's repulsive events through his mind; trying to make some sort of sense of it all but it was impossible. The whole experience was completely unprovoked and undeserved. Dean could feel the burning sensation of vomit being propelled from the pit of his gut upwards. Without thinking he immediately hunched over the small steel toilet bowl and emptied the contents of his stomach. The taste was vile, a mixture of god awful prison food laced with sedatives, and another man's semen which he had been forced to swallow. The more he thought about what he was throwing up, the sicker he became until he was left dry heaving over the pan.<p>

Two minutes of continuous retching without release had brought Dean out in a clammy sweat and left him gasping for breath, his energy completely spent. He let his weary body thump to the floor, his bent legs unable to support his own body weight and longer. He scooted away from the toilet and leaned back against the one of the cool stone walls of his cell. He raised his knees up toward his chest and laid his arms on top of them, is aching head falling back against the bricks.

He was so damn tired.

The Winchester could have stayed like that for hours but was soon brought out of his trance by the sound of someone calling his name.

"Dean…..Dean, you in there?" The voice belonged to his brother who was currently occupying the cell directly opposite to his own.

Dean, with a lot of effort, hoisted himself up off the floor and walked over to his cell door. He wasn't exactly sure what he would say to Sam about where he had been, or whether his brother would see through the lie he was about to invent but he sure as hell wasn't going to tell the god damned truth, that was a given. He stopped when his face was close enough to see through the bars across the hallway to where Sam was peering out of his own cell, hands grasping the bars either side of his face.

"What the hell happened Dean? You've been gone for hours, what's the deal?" The words were just above a whisper.

Dean didn't answer right away. He just stared at his younger brother, not really seeing him but looking through him. Emotions were hammering him all over the place and trying to concentrate was getting hard.

"Dean!" Sam's voice was louder now and coated in anger which seemed to snap the older Winchester out of his daze.

"I fell off the bunk and popped my shoulder out…been in the infirmary getting it fixed." Dean hoped that Sam would accept that answer without further interrogation. No such luck.

"You fell….off your bunk." Sam's tone screamed doubt. "I just heard you throwing up in there….. What's going on Dean? I'm not an idiot"

There was a brief pause between the brothers, just long enough for Sam to realise that whatever Dean was about to say would not be the truth

"The Doctor gave me painkillers…that's what's making me sick, so just drop it Sammy!" Dean was starting to get anxious and it showed in the stammer of his voice as he spoke. He couldn't be dealing with this right now. He needed to sit down.

"What aren't you telling me Dean? I'm not gonna let this go, you know that. If you fuck this up even more for us, God help me…Why do you always draw attention to yourself?" Sam paused his harsh ranting but only briefly, not long enough for his brother to answer him. "I give up Dean, from now on you're on your own. It's our first fucking night in here and you've already made a God Damned spectacle of yourself. You need to grow up! " Sam's face was burning red with a rage he hadn't known would surface, an indignation he had no control over.

Dean's face was pale, drained of all colour. He was in complete shock at the way Sam had just pounced on him. Did Sammy really mean all of that? Dean couldn't say anything, he was lost. With nobody to watch his back now that his brother had abandoned him. He was totally alone and he knew he deserved to be after tonight's horrific events. Who the fuck would want come within 20 feet of him now. Dean looked at his brother glaring at him and in one long release of breath, said,

"Ok Sammy." The words were devoid of all emoting, defeated and exhausted. He turned his back on the barred window and walked away from the only person he cared about. Sam was far too good for him now and he knew it.

* * *

><p>Sam had expected an entirely different reaction from his brother than the one he had just received and it shook him up a little. He was still wound up tight with anger and didn't want to look at Dean right now but the sheer emptiness in his brother's voice had caused a sharp pang of guilt rush heavily through his body, stabbing him deep inside his chest. He knew that Dean wasn't telling him the truth about what had gone on while he was away from his cell and even though he was 90% sure his idiot big brother was to blame, that 10% of doubt in the back of his mind clawed at him hard.<p>

Had he been too harsh?

Sam decided to go back to his bunk and attempt to get some sleep before sun up. He would speak to Dean in the morning. He never really intended to desert the man who had practically raised him since they were kids. Many things are said in anger that are not true and unfortunately for Sam, he had said a lot of hurtful shit that he did not mean. However, he wasn't about to drop down to his knees and beg for forgiveness. At least not until Dean started being honest with him. Sam had too much pride to fold under pressure, no matter how bad he felt for saying the things he had said. Winchesters never back down.

* * *

><p>The morning sun came blaring into the prison far too early for the men inhabiting the cells in Blackfield. The sharp rays of light shooting through the barred windows rouse the inmates long before the official prison wakeup call but all groaned at the shrill alarm reverberating through the blocks, unwilling to leave their cots, regardless of how uncomfortable they were.<p>

For Sam and Dean Winchester, the sun or the alarm had little effect, both having been awake for the remainder of the night following their conversation through their barred cell doors. Sam had laid back down on his thin mattress trying to figure out what was going on with his brother but was unable to come up with anything other than 'Dean was a dick'. He had aimed to get back to sleep but failed.

Dean, after walking away from Sam, had headed back to the steel toilet bowl, that time choosing to sit on top of it rather than squat in front of it. He stayed like that for the remainder of the night, attempting to calm himself and erase the shit that had happened from his mind. He also failed.

As the guards slowly emerged from their break room to escort the prisoners from B Block down to the mess hall for a shitty breakfast, Dean suddenly felt his chest tighten. He knew that Officer Cross and his subordinates had most likely left the building. After the morning shift change they were no longer expected to stick around and would not be the ones to release him from his cell. Still, the fear was all too real in Dean's head as he heard the familiar sound of booted footsteps and rattling keys, and those deafening sounds were headed his way.

* * *

><p>Bobby was sat at his old wooden desk drinking his fourth cup of coffee. The desk was barely visible underneath the hefty pile of aging reference books and loose sheets of worn paper strewn across its surface. The weary hunter had been up all night researching a case for one of his old contacts up in Canada and was up to his eyeballs in it. Bobby downed his warm drink with one last gulp, placing the 'I HEART KITTENS' mug, that Sam had gotten him one Christmas as a joke, on the side board and leaned back in his chair, his spine making an audible crack. He hadn't heard from either of the boys in a few days and staring at the ridiculous cup, he decided to check in before hitting the hay for a well-earned rest. Bobby punched in the number of Dean's cell on his own ancient handset and waited. The number rang a few times but then clicked to the automatic voicemail. 'Hey this is Dean, I'm busy right now, leave a message.'<p>

If only Bobby Singer knew what 'busy' really meant at that exact moment in time….

Bobby let out a sigh and hung up the phone, quickly dialling Sam's number instead. He listened to the same monotonous rings and then the same 'I'm busy' answer phone message and hung up once again.

"Damn it," he groaned, running his hand over his stubbled chin. "Where the hell are those idgits?"

He didn't bother trying again, they were probably sleeping off the effects of a hunt the night before, plus he knew the Winchester brothers could handle themselves so he rose from his perch and trudged up the stairs to get some much needed shut eye. He would try again later.

* * *

><p>"OUT OF BED ASSHOLES!"<p>

There was a loud banging sound accompanying the command that rang down the length of the hall as the guard in charge of the day shift struck his baton against the nearest steel door.

There was a united whine from the inmates occupying the twelve cells that made up B Block but all quickly dressed and stood to attention and stood to attention in front of their cell doors, waiting to be released for their breakfast. Sam was one of those waiting prisoners, his cell mate Noah standing behind him looking just as fierce as he had when Sam first laid eyes on him the previous afternoon.

"Is your brother back?" the stocky man said in a low hum.

"Yeah" Sam replied, without turning around, instead remaining in his current position with his back to the man. There was no more conversation between them as they heard a guard begin to unlock the cell doors, slowly making their way down the row.

Dean, who was still dressed in his prison issue clothes from the night before, simply heaved himself off the can and walked toward his cell door, buttoning his orange jumpsuit as he went. His heart was pounding but he managed to hide his unease well as he approached the barred window and locked eyes with his brother from across the hallway. The two men held each other's gaze for a few seconds but Dean quickly averted his line of sight, afraid that Sam would see straight inside of him and know the terror that was locked up tight in there. Sam just sighed as he watched Dean avoid looking at him. He felt like a total ass for how he had been with his brother the night before but he still wasn't about to roll over like the lapdog he used to be when he as a kid. Sam had learned the hard way that he had to stand up to his family or forever be the weak one who needed protecting. He knew that a part of Dean would always feel that need to shield his little brother but Sam was his own man now and he made his own decisions. One of which being that he was going to have it out with Dean later on today. One way or another he was going to get the truth out of his brother, whether Dean liked it or not.

Sam was suddenly brought out of his musings by the sound of a guard unlocking his thick door. He leaned backward slightly as the door swung open on its hinges with a loud creak but soon fell in line with the rest of the prisoners who were lining up on the other side of the door. Sam stood with his back against the wall on the left side of his cell, Noah following suit with everybody else, took the right. Sam watched intently as another guard unlocked his brother's cell. The actions were the same for Dean, although Sam noticed that his brother's movements were slow, cautious even. It instantly struck him as odd, definitely out of character and Dean's left arm was hanging lower than the other. 'Dislocated shoulder' Sam remembered Officer Hallow telling him last night. So that much was true at least, his mind assessed, storing the information for later use. Dean stood at attention like all the other incarcerated men on B Block but refused to look in Sam's direction, instead casting his eyes down at chest level. The two guards continued down the down the hall, unlocking the remaining cells as they went, with two further guards patrolling each end of the corridor.

The whole routine went smoothly and a lot quicker than the Winchester brothers would have expected, all prisoners doing what they were told without argument. The men were too interested in getting some food inside their bellies to start any trouble this early in the morning. The uniformed line of men were led out of B Block and through the narrow passageways to the centre of Blackfield's facility. That was where all the prison meals were to be eaten. The inmates nicknamed the mess hall 'The Pit' due to the terrible food and the raised metal walkway that ran around the spans of the room where the guards could watch the men eat, looking for trouble makers. The nickname made Sam and Dean uncomfortable to say the least. With Dean having spent the last year trapped inside the 'real' pit, neither hunter wanted to be reminded of that fact. It was in bad taste but that's just the way it had always been.

The group entered 'The Pit' not long after leaving their block. Sam and Dean stayed in line and did what everyone else was doing. The men, in turn, took a tray from the near end of the food counter and walked along its' length, first picking up a small cup of water then having a dollop of something porridge like slopped onto their aluminium trays with a clank. The server, also a prisoner who had kept his nose clean long enough to land himself a nice little work detail, looked as lifeless as all the others. Once Sam's tray had been filled he walked over to one of the rectangle dining tables and took a seat. He watched his brother collect his own small portion of food and waited for him to take a seat next to his own but Dean chose to sit at the table next to Sam's. He wanted to keep some distance between himself and his little brother, not wanting to be asked and questions that he was not willing to answer, but at the same time, didn't want to completely isolate himself from the only person he could trust while he was locked up inside the stone walls of Blackfield Penitentiary. He just needed some space to sort through the mess of jumbled thoughts that were bombarding him. Sam continued to stare at Dean but didn't argue, he would get a chance to speak to him during rec time, and he intended to.

* * *

><p>Castiel was sat on an old wooden bench, it's faded green paint flaking at the edges and watched as the park filled with people. He was tired from searching for answers he couldn't find and needed some time to gather his thoughts. His hands lay in lap and he was still, invisible to the eyes of the passing humans around him. He felt calm in that moment. His thoughts drifted to Dean, as they often did at these quiet times and he pulled out his cell phone from the left pocket of his grey trench coat. No messages. The Angel was still trying to get himself accustom to using human technology but had at least mastered the art of dialling numbers and pressing the call button so he did that. He listened to Dean's voicemail message, which eased his fatigue sufficiently, but didn't speak after the beep. He put the phone away, his brow furrowing. Why would Dean fail to answer his call? He felt concern seeping into the back of his mind, slowly consuming the reassurance he had found from hearing the hunter's voice moment earlier but it would have to be ignored for the time being. Castiel rose from the bench, his movement as smooth as liquid and disappeared. His task was too important to abandon for a bad feeling. He had to find God, the God that had abandoned his Angels.<p>

* * *

><p>Breakfast in Blackfield went without a glitch, each man consuming the gruel on their plates in relative silence. There was a low murmur that flowed through the hall but the dominant sound was that of the guard's heavy boots making contact with the iron walkway surrounding the feasting inmates. Sam and Dean had given each other a few quick glances throughout the course of their morning meal but tensions were still running high for both of them. Once each man finished his food they took their trays up to the far end of the food counter where a large brown bin was located, emptying their left overs into it and setting the trays down onto a wheelie cart to be taken to the kitchen for cleaning. All men were then led to one of form adjoining units connected to 'the Pit' according to their block and were free to roam for the rest of the morning. The Winchesters were led to the largest of the four rooms. There were a few tables bolted to the floor along one of the walls where prisoners were permitted to sit, chat, and play cards. A small, worn pool table stood near the opposite wall and there was a reasonably sized television attached high on the third wall, a wired cage surrounding the set, protecting it from damage. The remaining wall consisted of a barred doorway and a large reinforced observation window, behind which sat two guards documenting the roaming prisoner's movements. There were a total of four guards pacing the room along with the inmates, guarding the exits, which were locked and the toilets, which were known for trouble.<p>

Dean immediately walked over to one of the bolted tables. He was exhausted from his encounter the night before, coupled with the drugs he had been tricked into taking and not being able to sleep. He sat on the narrow bench with his back to the wall, watching the rest of the prisoners saunter around, false bravado beginning to show in their movements and on their faces. 'Survival' Dean thought. He stared out into the room feeling more trapped than he ever had in his entire life. Even being torture in hell couldn't compare to the feeling lodged in his chest right now, at least in the pit he knew what to expect. How the hell was he going to get Sam and himself out of here?

Sam thought about sitting with his brother as soon as they were steered into that room but after seeing the distant look on Dean's face, thought better of it. He didn't think he would be able to get through to him in his current frame of mind, which in itself made Sam all the more desperate for answers. He was beginning to see that whatever had happened to his brother last night was a hell of a lot more than just a dislocated shoulder. The younger Winchester pulled himself out of his thoughts and decided to check out the pool table. He realised that it was probably his best bet at getting some information out of the inmates about what really goes on inside Blackfield Penitentiary. He walked over to where a small group of men had gathered near the felt and leaned back against the wall, waiting for an opportunity to insert himself into their conversation. He noticed his cell mate Noah walk past, heading for the toilets. Sam planned to find him later on that day and see if he knew of anything that could help him figure out what Dean was hiding.

* * *

><p>Bobby awoke with a groan as he stretched out on his bed, reviving his aching limbs. He hadn't slept for long, he never did, but was ready for another bash at the books all the same. No rest for the wicked. He heaved himself off the rumpled bed sheets, which he hadn't bothered to get under and walked towards the bathroom to wash the fatigue off of his face. Bobby's first thought once the cold water hit him was coffee so he made his way downstairs to the kitchen and put on a fresh pot. While he waited for it to brew he picked up his cell phone and called the boys again. No answer.<p>

"Well…..that can't be good." He said under his breath as he hung up and slid the phone back into his pocket. Bobby leaned against the kitchen counter, worry etched onto his face and listened to the coffee jug slowly fill. He knew something was wrong, he could feel it in his bones. Bobby poured himself a large cup of Joe, took it over to the kitchen table and sat down heavily. He needed to figure out how to get a hold of the boys, but what could he really do if they weren't answering his calls. Bobby let out a long sigh and finished his drink, his mind running over all the information he had on the Winchester brother's last case. It was probably best to start there. Maybe he would find some sort of clue as what those idgits could have gotten themselves into.

* * *

><p>Sam had stood by the pool table for a good half hour before one of his fellow cons' threw him a pool cue.<p>

"Let's see what you're made of stretch." He said as he picked up the small blue cube of chalk and started dusting the tip of his own cue. The man was a foot shorter than Sam but had sufficient bulk to make him dangerous. However, he had an air of calm about him which Sam concluded was due to a long time spent behind bars. He was in his late fifties and years of hardship clearly showed in the lines on his haggard face. He seemed at home inside Blackfield.

Sam headed over to the table with his stick in hand and waited for the other guy to rack up.

"I'll let you break, being the new fish and all." He told Sam without looking up from the table. The game was played in silence for its majority, the men gathered around the table, watching the young hunter, sizing him up. There were three balls left on the felt when Sam broke the silence.

"So….how long you been in here anyway?" he asked with as much nonchalance as he could manage. The man looked up briefly and then to Sam's surprise answered.

"Twenty two tears and countin'."

Sam paused, he wasn't sure what he should say next. "How long you got left on your ticket?"

"Three wonderful years buddy." He answered with sarcasm thick in his deep voice. "What you in for?"

Sam waited a moment before replying, trying to work out what he should tell this man. He knew full well that he couldn't trust anybody inside prison, especially on the first day.

"My brother spouted off the Sherriff back in Elmwood, got us sent up here until they figure out what to do with us."

There was no response to that statement. The game finished quickly after and the men surrounding the playing pair parted ways. Sam placed his cue back on top of the green felt and watched his opponent do the same. His expression had changed once Sam had mentioned his reason for occupying a cell in Blackfield and it set the Winchesters nerves on edge. What was going on?

As Sam was about to walk away from the older inmate, the man caught a hold of his bicep lightly, halting him.

"You just watch yourself, ya hear me?"

"What's the dean man? Please, I need to know." Sam said, a slight note of urgency in the words.

"Look…all I know is that there is some kinda shady deal going on between that Sherriff's department and the big guy upstairs ok. Which block you boys kickin it in?"

"B Block."

The man looked directly into Sam's eyes then.

"Your brother messed with the wrong Sherriff."

That was the last the men spoke to one another as the pair were ushered away from the pool table by a patrolling guard. Sam watched the man walk towards his group and disappear into the centre of the crowd. That was all the information he was going to get that morning. His head was pounding with so many unanswered questions as he headed towards his brother sitting against the opposite wall.

* * *

><p>Thank you all for reading the latest chapter. If you like the story please review, constructive critisism is always appreciated and I would love to know what you guys think of Behind The Walls. Nessie88 xxxxxx<p> 


	9. Chapter 9

I tried really hard to get this chapter up ASAP for you guys so i hope you all like it. Your reviews are what gives me that extra push to keep writing and I can't thank you enough for taking an interest in this story.

Happy reading everyone xxxxx

Chapter Nine

Dean had been watching Sam play pool and knew that his little brother was fishing. The way the men's demeanour had changed towards the end of the game sent his stomach churning. What did those guys just say to Sam? He couldn't let Sam find out about what was going on, it would finish him for sure. Dean continued watching as the older inmate that Sam had been playing pool with stopped his brother from walking away. His fists clenched tightly as he witnessed the brief conversation between them and he could feel his heart beat start to accelerate. His unease only increased as he saw Sam part from the man and begin walking towards him, a mix between confusion and determination on his face. Dean took a deep, calming breath, he didn't want to let anything slip that would give Sam cause to worry and therefore dig deeper. He just had to stay neutral and stick to short answers.

Sam sat down next to his brother but didn't look at him. He could sense Dean's apprehension as soon as he had started to make his way over to the table and even though he was still angry he didn't want to get into a fight.

"Talk to me Dean." He said calmly, just loud enough for his bother to hear.

"Talk about what?" Dean answered. He hid the tremor in his voice well but not quite well enough as Sam shifted on his seat, glancing sideward at the hunter sat next to him.

"I need you to tell me what's going on. I know it's more than just falling off your bunk."

"That's all that happened Sammy, end of story, so can we drop it now?" Dean's shoulders started to tense causing him to grunt slightly. His shoulder was still stiff and uncomfortable.

"You know I can't do that, look I'm sorry for snapping at you last night, I wasn't feeling right, but we're brothers and I know when you're hiding something from me." Sam paused to look at Dean's face. His eyes were distant and his skin was starting to pale. "I want to help you Dean, but I can't do that if you keep shutting me out." Sam turned his body towards Dean in a comforting gesture.

Dean didn't respond, he couldn't. His heart was racing now and he was almost sure that Sam could hear the frenzied organ beating right out of his chest.

"I gotta pee." Dean rose from the bench and slowly headed for the restroom, all but praying that his brother wouldn't follow. No such luck. Sam was quickly on his heels, unwilling to let the situation rest. He was positive that his big brother needed help, he just didn't know what with.

Dean entered the guarded toilets and walked straight to the row of steel sinks. He turned the tap on, scooping up a handful of cold water and splashed it onto his ashen face. The shock of the water cleared his head a little and he glanced into the mirror, staring at his reflection for a few moments. He looked like shit. That thought made him snort at the sheer dumbness of it. What else was he supposed to look like after a non-consensual drugging, fierce beating and sexual assault? Sam's face appeared in the smudged mirror behind his own and Dean cast his eyes down. He didn't have the strength to continue this right now.

"Dean?" His name on Sam's lips was soft and pleading. It made Dean's heart break. How could he shield his brother from this when he hadn't been strong enough to stop it from happening in the first place?

"I can't do this right now Sammy….please….don't make me." Those words sent Sam's stomach plummeting. He had never heard his brother sound so broken before in his whole life and it was killing him.

"Let me help you Dean." Sam's own voice was beginning to crack, he quickly coughed it away. It was his turn to be the strong one now, he could feel it.

Dean took a few deep breaths, stabilising himself before looking his little brother in the eye.

"Don't worry about me Sammy…I'm fine. All we need is to find a way outta here. Just concentrate on that…I'll be ok." Dean couldn't hold his brothers gaze any longer.

Sam knew he needed to quit his questioning, for now at least. Dean looked like he was about ready to drop right there on the bathroom floor. Sam hated seeing his brother like this and it made him feel like the world's biggest jerk for the way he had flown off the handle the night before. What the hell had gotten into him? Yeah, he was angry at how Dean had added fuel to the fire back in that damned Sheriff's office, but they only had each other to rely on. He shouldn't have pushed all of the blame onto Dean. After listening to what the guy playing pool with him had said, it looked like they would have ended up in Blackfield regardless of how Dean had acted. He still couldn't figure out exactly what the older prisoner was getting at with that snippet of information but he knew in his gut that it wouldn't be good. Sam decided to do as his brother had asked, for the time being. Finding a way out of Blackfield had been top of his list before he had seen Dean that morning anyway, so until his brother was ready to open up, escaping was back to number one.

"Do you remember the cell number Cas gave us?" Sam asked, changing the subject from Dean to breaking out.

"I don't….umm….." Dean rubbed his eyes, trying to think back to the night in the graveyard. "Sorry Sam, no. After that asshole used the Taser on me, I lost it."

"I'm having the same problem." Sam sighed, with all that had happened over the past few days, the last thing on his mind was a few cell phone digits scrawled on a scrap of paper.

"We need to call Bobby, when do we get a phone call in this place?" Dean shouted into the basin, his hands gripping the edge tightly for support. He was trying to keep it together, but was starting to lose control. He wanted out of that place as soon as possible, but as things were looking, it wasn't going to happen anytime soon.

* * *

><p>Castiel stood on a deserted beach watching the gentle waves lap at the edge of the sand. It was dark, the sky an inky blue but a full moon shone brightly amongst an eternity of twinkling stars. This was a corner of heaven which he had never venture to before and he felt sorry about that fact. As he listened to the sound of the warm breeze flow across the surface of the rippling water he wondered how much he had overlooked about his home. He had not found what he was looking for here but didn't want to leave its beauty behind just yet. This was the first real peace he had experienced for a long time and he wasn't ready to let that go. The angel closed his eyes for a moment, taking in a deep breath, enjoying the subtle aromas of the ocean. It was in that moment that something stirred inside Castiel. He had never felt a jolt like it before, the sensation was odd, not quite painful but as far from pleasant as anything could get. The episode was brief, only lasting a fraction of a second but Castiel knew that it was some kind of warning. He had stayed too long and he had work to do. In the blink of an eye the Angel disappeared leaving only his footprints behind in the illuminated sand.<p>

* * *

><p>Bobby was getting sick to the back teeth of calling the Winchesters phones and receiving no answer. He had made a few calls to some of his contacts based around Elmwood but they came up short where Sam and Dean were concerned. He was quickly running out of options and had already drank his way through two pots of strong coffee, its effects making themselves know at the base of his skull. Should he get in his truck and drive down there, hope for the best? His brain was telling him that he was just over reacting. That the boys were probably in some cheap motel entertaining a couple of girls after a successful hunt, but his heart was screaming the opposite. Bobby had absolutely no reason to think that the brothers were in trouble but his instincts were rarely wrong. He had to go with his gut on this one, even at the risk of looking like a soft old fool if it turned out his intuition had failed him. He chose to put off the long drive to the middle of nowhere for now and picked up the phone to make a few more enquiries before deciding which course of action he was going to take.. That voice in his head continued to niggle away, driving him onward with his investigation. All he knew for sure was that he couldn't wait much longer, or it might just be too late.<p>

* * *

><p>The morning spent in Recreation Room 2 of Blackfield went quickly and soon Sam and Dean found themselves being led back to 'The Pit' for lunch. Dean chose to sit with his brother this time, feeling a fraction more relaxed in his company than he had earlier that morning but there was little conversation between them. Dean was concentrating on keeping himself awake while Sam was studying the mass of dark congealing mince that had been poured onto his tray, trying to figure out which kind of road kill the meat was before attempting to eat it. The ruckus in the lunch room was louder than it had been at breakfast, all the men now alert and going about their daily prison routines, but the Winchesters actually preferred the noise over the clanking of guard's boots echoing off of the walls of the large hall.<p>

Dean ate his meal without paying much attention to it. His mind was elsewhere. He was distant enough that he didn't notice that Sam had left the table they were sharing to dispose of what was left of his food. The younger Winchester scraped his leftovers into the large food waste bin and was headed back to his brother when he spotted his cell mate from across the room. He was getting up from his own table and starting to make his way over to the bin with his tray. Sam waited for him, he thought he might be able to get some answers from the larger man.

"Hey Noah." Sam called once the man was in earshot.

"How's ya first day goin' Sam?" He asked in his deep voice.

"It's going…." Sam replied with a half-smile. He wanted to hide his unease from the man he was sharing a bunk with. "I gotta ask you something man." He added.

"You can ask but don't know if I'll have an answer for ya." Noah placed his empty tray on top of the already healthy pile of dirty dishes and stood next to Sam.

"What do you know about a deal going on between Elmwood and this place?" Sam just came out with it. He thought it would be better not to beat around the bush.

"Not too much, I ain't been here long enough. Heard some whispers but never stuck around to get into it, why?"

"Just something one of the cons said while we were playin' pool earlier." Sam looked back towards his brother who was still sat at the table eating. "Do you think you could ask around? I'd do it myself but not sure how much a guy is gonna tell me ya know"

Noah stared at Sam for a moment before answering. "There are a couple of guys I can talk to, it's gonna take a while though. Let me get back to you on it." Noah clapped Sam firmly on the arm and walked away.

Sam made his way back to the table and sat down next to Dean. He hoped Noah would be able to shed some light on just exactly what was going on but until then he needed to be there for his brother. Dean's tray was empty now, he had eaten everything that had been slopped onto it without a second thought which, strangely enough, impressed his little brother.

"You finished?" Sam said, pulling Dean's attention away from whatever was going on inside his head.

"Yeah," was all the reply he got as they heard the bell sound, announcing the end of lunch.

All the inmate gathered into their groups ready to be taken back to their assigned blocks. Sam and Dean fell in line with the others and were escorted back to B Block as uneventfully as they had been escorted out. The men formed two lines against the walls of the hallway, each standing next to their locked cell doors. The Winchesters were in the dark as to what was going on but the majority of the men knew what they were doing so the brothers mirrored their stances and waited for instructions. The head guard in charge of the day shift began to slowly pace the hallway, looking at every man occupying the space.

"I see we got a couple of new guys with us today so listen up!" He shouted. "If you thought your time here at Blackfield was gonna be some kind of picnic, you thought wrong shit heads. You boys gotta earn your keep."

Sam and Dean quickly got the gist of what their afternoons were to hold whilst locked up in this prison. Work.

"Most of you piss ants know what you gotta do but for the new fish, I got me a list." He held up a clipboard with a few papers tapped to it and started reading off the names. Sam was assigned to work alongside Noah and two other men from the cell next to his own. Their job was to mop the floors of the block, cells and break room. Once a week they would also be expected to mop out 'The Pit', all the blocks taking turns with that back breaking task. Sam glanced towards Noah, glad that he knew someone who could show him the ropes, so to speak. Mopping wasn't an exact science, any monkey could do it but he knew enough not to go in guns blazing. Mopping the inside a prison wrong could land a guy in some serious hot water so he was grateful not to be alone.

Dean was given laundry duty with a few guys that he did not like the look of but he quickly pushed those thoughts aside. He figured that if he was working, the chances are he wouldn't be bothered by any unwanted attentions. He was restricted to folding and grouping the clothes with one other convict, the other two were responsible for collecting the dirty laundry and running it through the machines. Simple.

Sam looked at his brother once the guard had finished dishing out chores. Both would have much preferred to have been put on the same work detail, but life just ain't that kind.

"OK fuckers, get to it."

Sam promptly followed Noah and the other men down the hallway and turned a corner at the end, headed for a storage closet where the cleaning equipment was kept. One of the old timers they were working alongside was trusted with the key to the small room and they quickly set about their task.

Once Sam and his group had rounded the corner and were out of sight, Dean was led in the opposite direction to his brother. The men assigned to deal with the laundry took the same route out of B Block as the inmates had taken to get to 'The Pit' but took a right turning just before they reached the lunch room. The four men followed the length of the hall to the very end where a guard was manning a thick iron gate blocking the entrance to the laundry room. The leader of the group Dean was working with showed the guard a pass with their I.D. numbers and job tasks written on it. The guard studied the card, checking the numbers against the stitched patches on each of the prisoner's jumpsuits before opening the gate allowing the four men entry.

* * *

><p>Bobby was stumped. He had been wracking his brains all day and still hadn't come up with any theories as to where the Winchesters could be. It was out of character for Bobby to worry as much as he was but he just couldn't shake the feeling in his gut that something was off. After all of his years spent hunting, he knew better than to brush things to one side, especially when his heart was telling him to pursue whatever in was that was niggling away at him. It was nearly four o'clock in the afternoon and by this time he was about ready to pull his hair out in frustration. He had called nearly everyone he knew that may have some information on the brother's whereabouts. He had checked newspaper articles from the towns surrounding Elmwood on the off chance that the boys had picked up another case straight after the last. He had even gone as far as calling a few hospitals in the area, giving a number of Sam and Dean's false names to find out if either of them had been admitted in last few days. All his efforts over the past several hours had come to a big fat nothing. Bobby was pulled from his thoughts with a long, loud growl rumbling in his stomach. He hadn't eaten at all that day, preoccupied with his search for Sam and Dean but he could not put it off any longer. If he was going to maintain the pace he had set whilst figuring out what the boys were up to, he was going to have to eat. The hunter headed to the kitchen and tugged the freezer door open. Just as he had expected, the freezer was empty. He slammed the door closed, turned to one of his kitchen drawers and pulled out a tatty Bible. He flicked the book open and thumbed through the torn, crumpled pages quickly, stopping once he found a grubby twenty dollar bill that he had hidden inside for emergencies. He folded the note into the back pocket of his fraying denim jeans and threw the Bible back into its drawer unceremoniously before scooping up the keys to his truck off of the counter top and heading for the front door.<p>

* * *

><p>As Dean walked through the guarded gate and pushed open the hinged double doors to the laundry room the heat took his breath away. Visibility was also poor due to the steam from the washing machines and pressing equipment and he could see that the men in the large room were having to shout to one another over the roar of the mechanics.<p>

"Hey new guy?" the man who was carrying the groups passes yelled. Dean edged himself closer so that he could hear what he was being told.

"You follow Tommy, he's on folding duty with you. He'll show your sorry ass what to do. Don't fuck up." Dean nodded his head in answer and followed the man through the clouds of steam and into a separate but equally large room where the clean laundry was stored. The walls of the room couldn't be seen. Tall metal shelves that stretched from floor to ceiling were bolted to them, all numbered and stacked with folded washing ready to be distributed back onto the blocks. It was a hell of a lot quieter in that room, although a low rumble could still be heard from behind the doors leading to the main facility.

"OK fish, all ya gotta do is take the shit from this bin, fold it and stack it in the right section." Tommy waved his hand toward a deep container mounted on wheels. It was overflowing with clean garments but that didn't bother Dean. The more work he had to do, the less time he had to think about what was going to happen to him once he was locked back in his cell for the night. Tommy stared at Dean whose face was blank, distant.

"Hey ass hole, did you hear me?" He moved to stand directly in front of Dean leaving only a small gap between them. He was around three inches taller than the Winchester and well built, but not overwhelmingly so. Dean noticed that the man's dark hair was long but not as long as Sam's. He had it slicked back behind his ears, leaving a few strands to fall over his face. The man had a mean look in his eyes and a rough voice which reflected the hardness he had gained from spending time behind bars.

"I heard you." Dean finally spoke. He didn't want to piss the prisoner off but he didn't have the energy to make conversation either.

"What's your name guy?" tommy asked, his tone demanding an immediate answer.

"Dean."

"Well get moving Dean, we ain't got all day!"

The two men set about their task. Dean kept his eyes on what he was doing, Tommy kept his eyes on Dean.

* * *

><p>Sam was in the communal bathroom of B Block, mop in hand and half the floor already gleaming. He couldn't stop thinking about the change in his brother. He had never known Dean to act the way he was acting right now and for it to happen overnight sent his mind racing. What the hell had gone on with his big brother? Sam halted what he was doing, the sound of whispering in the hallway drawing his interest. He placed his mop back into its bucket but held on to the wooden handle, ready to continue with his task if anyone happened to walk into the bathroom to check up on him. He strained to hear what was being said outside the doorway.<p>

"Walker said it's a sure thing man, I'm telling you."

"Ain't had this kinda shit for a long time Bill, you sure you heard right?"

"Hey, that screw just told me not five minutes ago. Fifty bucks an hour, hundred for the night."

"No fucking way…You seen what's on offer yet?"

"Briefly…..Very nice."

"OK, break it up ladies, get back to work!"

Sam recognised that last voice. It belonged to the Head Guard who had first welcomed him and his Brother into Blackfield. Sam quickly gathered that shift change must have happened while he had been working so yesterday's guards would now be back on duty. He had listened to the conversation between the two cons out in the hallway but didn't really know what they were talking about. Something about it seemed odd to Sam, what they had said didn't make any sense to him but then again he wasn't familiar with the prison lingo. He was going to have to ask Noah yet again. He was sure his cell mate would grow tired of his constant questions soon enough but until that happened, the large man was the only link he had. Sam resumed his mopping and finished the second half of the bathroom floor just as a bell sounded the end of the work period. Noah appeared in the doorway and promptly ushered Sam out of the room, heading to the storage room to return their empty buckets. Sam wanted to ask Noah about what he had overheard as soon as he saw him, but he figured that it would be better to bring it up when they were alone. There were too many prisoners within earshot and he didn't want to draw any attention to himself. Once the cleaning cupboard was locked back up for the day the men all returned to their cells, lining up outside of their door just like they had all done earlier at breakfast. It was time for dinner which meant time for more road kill.

Dean and his group appeared from around the corner not long after Sam had gotten into position in front of his cell door. The younger Winchester studied his brother as he moved to stand opposite him. Sam didn't notice any change in his demeanour. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. He subconsciously balled his hands into fists, frustration gripping him tightly and starting to show itself. He quickly realised what he was doing and forced his hands to relax resting them against the sides of his body. He didn't want Dean to see his control slipping. He just wanted to know what was going on. Sam felt like he was a kid again, always shielded from the truth. He had worked hard to get on an even level with his brother and he couldn't understand why Dean was keeping him in the dark. Another bell resonated through B Block prompting all the inmates to turn and begin the walk to 'The pit' once again. The daily routine was already starting to get on Sam's nerves and it was only the second day. He needed to get him and his brother out of Blackfield soon or they were both going to go crazy.

* * *

><p>Review and let me know your thoughts on this chapter please.<p>

Thanks a lot, Nessie88 xxx


End file.
